


can we just get a pause?

by farfarawaygirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/F, Fools in Love, Mutual Pining, She asked for space, he’s struggling to give it to her, you’re breaking my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29212038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl
Summary: Time Stamp 9x05“Kind of a crazy day.” Sylvie hugs the jump bag, not exactly looking at him, but not looking past him either. He misses her eyes.“Yeah. That was a wild call.” Matt’s voice is a little gravelly, the euphoria and endorphins he felt once they were out of the building are now long gone.Matt follows her line of sight, how it lands on Mouch’s turn out gear, and then moves the few feet forward to where his own jacket hangs from the front passenger door. He is not imagining the way she swallows, or how she pulls her lips tight. There’s a feeling that if he speaks first the spell will be broken, and this momentary reprieve that allows him to place beside her will end. He doesn’t want that.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	can we just get a pause?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Evermore. 
> 
> I have the attention span of a gnat, and so all errors are unintentional, but part of my charm. 
> 
> Take me, baby, or leave me.

And when I was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost)  
I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now)  
In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?)  
I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again)  
(If you think of all the costs)  
It was real enough (whether weather be the frost)  
To get me through (or the violence of the dog days)  
(Out on waves being tossed)  
But I swear (is there a line that we could just go cross?)  
You were there  
And I was catching my breath  
Floors of a cabin creaking under my step  
And I couldn't be sure  
I had a feeling so peculiar  
This pain wouldn't be for  
Evermore

Evermore • Taylor Swift

“You should have gone to Med,” Sylvie chastised Mouch, hovering over him in his usual spot on the couch.

She came back from a call to find Mouch coughing a little on the couch. The house had watched as she grabbed her stethoscope and the jump bag, checking his breathing. The call this morning had rattled everyone a little, it had been a little too close for almost everyone involved. Herrmann and Cruz in the elevator. Squad. Engine. Truck. Mouch most of all, Matt can still feel that prickle of dread when Kidd called in the Mayday. 

“I’m fine, Sylvie. I promise. Just need to take a rest.” After Mouch broke off to cough some more, Sylvie’s blue eyes looked up and scanned the room, landing on Matt’s. He could read the tension in the tight line of her neck, in how she held her mouth. It should have been enough of a giveaway how seriously she viewed this, that she was willingly searching him out. 

“Should we send him home?” Herrmann’s question pulled her eyes from Matt, and she focussed back in on Mouch, checking his blood pressure. 

Mackey blocked his view of her, asking, “how’s it looking, Boss?”

“I want an x-Ray to ensure nothings cracked, because we’ve got a lot of crackling on the left side.”

Boden moved forward, “okay, let’s take 51 out of service, Herrmann and I will take Mouch to Med, any calls and the engine guys will ride with truck. Copy?”

In the flurry of movement, Matt has the view of Sylvie zipping up the jump bag, her brows drawn together. She helps Mouch up, follows him and Herrmann to the Buggy, and quickly kisses Mouch’s cheek before loading him up. It never stops to amaze him the way she cares for the people on her team. 

It’s not exactly respecting her wishes, but Matt finds himself standing beside her on the App floor, watching Boden drive away from the house. It’s the closest he’s been to her in weeks, the only time he has allowed himself to be in her orbit when they aren’t on a call. Matt’s not even surprised that he feels better just by standing next to her. Just the smell of her shampoo and he is instantly more at ease. 

“Kind of a crazy day.” Sylvie hugs the jump bag, not exactly looking at him, but not looking past him either. He misses her eyes. 

“Yeah. That was a wild call.” Matt’s voice is a little gravelly, the euphoria and endorphins he felt once they were out of the building are now long gone. 

Matt follows her line of sight, how it lands on Mouch’s turn out gear, and then moves the few feet forward to where his own jacket hangs from the front passenger door. He is not imagining the way she swallows, or how she pulls her lips tight. There’s a feeling that if he speaks first the spell will be broken, and this momentary reprieve that allows him to place beside her will end. He doesn’t want that. 

They stand there for a moment, just a few feet apart, the garage door still open, cool air turning her cheeks pink. 

Sylvie’s voice is thick with emotion when she finally speaks. “Lucky save, on your part.”

“It was nothing.” 

Fiddling with the zipper of the jump bag, Sylvie says, “didn’t sound like nothing. I wear a radio too, you know.”

He does know. Fleetingly he thought of her when he was looking for a way to save Mouch, what he wanted to say to her, what he wanted her to know. All Matt can do is nod. Sylvie steps to the side, moving towards the Ambo, turning back to face him at the last minute. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

Matt’s not sure how to answer that. Not sure if it requires an answer. Physically he’s okay after that call, emotionally it’s always hard when it’s a close one like that. Compounding all that on the way she is suddenly missing from his life, Matt feels - well, not his best. But this interaction, despite everything, is a small bubble of hope building in his chest. 

“You haven’t seen the last of me, yet.”

Her smile is not as wide as he is used to, a harsh reminder that however unintentionally he has hurt her. Matt wants to keep her there, wants to keep talking to her; thinks that if he can manage that, maybe he can make her smile like he used to. “How’s the new roommate?”

Sylvie tucks the maroon jump bag under her chin. “I’m lucky to have her, it’s a weird year to be living alone. Kinda lonely at times.”

Those words make his chest feel hallow. He remembers helping her move into that apartment, the sadness she felt at leaving the three bedroom she had shared with friends. ‘The lemon wall paper makes it easier, though’, she had laughed, unpacking mugs in the kitchen. They had ordered fish tacos that night, Miles Davis pulled up on Spotify. It had been one of the highlights of his summer. 

“Even with the lemon wall paper?”

The right side of her mouth tips up in a half grin. “I’d take Stella over paper and paste any day.”

Matt wants to touch her. Misses how he used to just casually touch her back, but the moment is ending, Sylvie stepping further away. He hasn’t made her smile again, which feels like a monumental personal failure. 

“I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything.”

Sylvie nods, turning away from him. Uselessly he pushes his hands into the pockets of his jacket, watches as she replaces the jump bag in its spot and heads back inside. Here’s the thing, Matt wants to respect her wishes, wants to salvage their friendship. If he is being honest he wants more than friendship, because now he knows how she feels pressed against him in a door. Knows what her eyes look like, pupils blown wide, after he has kissed her. 

He doesn’t really know how they ended up here, on different sides of this weird line. Sure as hell doesn’t know to fix it.

**Author's Note:**

> Stop by tumblr and share a head cannon, or asks me something! I appreciate you making it this far.


End file.
